


Eighteen Years

by Ladderofyears



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Angst, Auror Harry Potter, Birth, CC Compliant, Chronic Illness, Dancing, Eighteen Years of Drastoria, Engagement, F/M, Family Day out, Father-Son Relationship, Happy Childhood, Isolation, Leaving Home, Love, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Scorpius Malfoy, Picnics, Pregnancy, Press and Tabloids, Sad Ending, St Mungo's Hospital, Terminal Illnesses, True Love, Wakes & Funerals, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 21:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19049242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: Eighteen years in the lives of Astoria and Draco Malfoy.“Astoria. If I could live a thousand lifetimes I’d still make the decision to have loved, cherished and adored you."





	Eighteen Years

**Author's Note:**

> Thankyou so much to the Mods for creating this wonderful Drastoria Fest. A beautiful, and very romantic pairing which sadly don't get many fanfics or fanarts made about them. 
> 
> When I looked at the prompts I thought they all looked brilliant, but I decided to write _Eighteen Years_ because I wanted to create something that showed the passage of time, and how quickly a life can pass you by. One hundred word drabbles (and yes, each year is _exactly_ one hundred) are nothing. They pass by in a couple of sentences and it is exceedingly hard to fill with them with everything you want to say. I thought this was perfect vehicle for expressing how frightening quickly time must have passed for Draco and Astoria, and how fast the years must have sped by when you know you've not got forever on your side.

**~~~ 2002 ~~~**

Draco Malfoy falls in love with Astoria Greengrass on the night of her Engagement Ball. It’s quite the grand occasion, really. Enchanted fairy lights and flutes of champagne that are charmed to never empty. It would have been a shocking omission to bar the Malfoys, but _of course_ they are shunned. Condescension and disdain mark Draco’s every conversation, so he decides to leave. 

But then there’s Astoria. 

“I was hoping you’d dance with me,” she asks, taking his hand, and leading him to the centre of the room. Draco laughs, and its the first genuine, true happiness he can remember.

**~~~ 2003 ~~~**

The damned _Prophet_ was malicious; Draco was even accused of dosing Astoria with _Amortentia_. As if he would do anything so _coarse_. 

For the first time in his life Draco feels something that's good, something that’s pure. Something that belongs to him alone. 

Things aren't easy, but _Circe_ , when have they ever been for him? They meet in secret, in Muggle London, hold hands. And when Draco asks Astoria to take off her engagement ring, she does so. 

“You don’t want that, not any more,” Draco states firmly. 

Draco knows Astoria will soon wear his grandmother’s sky-blue diamond ring, instead. 

**~~~ 2004 ~~~**

Draco proposes, and there aren’t any flowers. There’s no Ball, no _Prophet_ announcement and certainly no excited whispering around _Diagon_. Just Draco, knelt before his beloved. 

“Yes. I’ll marry you Draco,” Astoria says, and with those words chooses a whole new life. Astoria gives up her name, family and reputation, and does so without a second glance. 

Draco’s fiancée is luminous, ethereal. “And I’ll love you forever.”

They wed under an Oak in the Manor, and promise _to have, and to hold, till death do them part_. Draco has vowed before, but these words are scorched forever into his heart.

**~~~ 2005 ~~~**

Astoria wants a child, but Draco refuses to hear her. 

“No, love. A baby would weaken you… It could take years off your life. You’ve seemed better, these last few months. The potions have been helping. The Healers said you’d be better to avoid pregnancy, and we’re happy, aren't we? Just us?” 

Draco knows he sounds like Lucius, pathetic, wheedling and entreating. He’s scared though, terrified of pain and loss. The years at Astoria’s side that Draco knows he’ll lose. 

“A baby would be good for us. For _you_. I don’t want this illness to dictate my life forever, Draco.”

**~~~ 2006 ~~~**

Astoria’s wish comes true on a grey, mid-November day. She births their baby at home, with only her sister and her mother in attendance. 

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy is tiny, purple-tinged and cries loudly, shocked at his sudden entrance into the world. Never before in his life has Draco been so entirely sure of the rightness of the universe. He kisses his wife’s red, sweat-damp face and smiles. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. “He’s beautiful. Like his mum… And for everything. For loving me.”

Astoria drifts off, joining Scorpius as he sleeps. 

But Draco stays awake, listening to his families slumbering breaths. 

**~~~ 2007 ~~~**

> **Has Scandalous Society Heiress Spawned Son of He Who Shall Not Be Named?  
>  Did Lucius Malfoy _Plan_ Impregnation From Azkaban?**
> 
> **These were just some of the questions heard ringing from _Diagon_. It has emerged that Wizarding Britain’s most _controversial_ War veteran has “fathered” a child with _shamed_ Pure-Blood Princess Astoria Greengrass…**

Draco felt a surge of pure fury, and he wandlessly _Incendio’d_ his Prophet, sending the infernal rag tumbling to the fireplace. _Rita Bloody Skeeter_. This was the third article that week. His beloved family, innocent of his shame, his Dark Mark.

Draco needs to decide how to protect them. 

**~~~ 2008 ~~~**

The wards around their Manor are unassailable, knotty gnarled spells that repel enemies and friends alike. Draco doesn’t care. He only hopes that the prying eyes of the wizarding world are kept far away from his family. The _Prophet_ know a Malfoy headline will sell papers, so they’ll print their bile and filth regardless. 

Yesterday, an owl came from Zabini, wanting to meet. _Bring the family_ , Blaise wrote. _Can’t wait to meet your little Slytherin_. 

But Draco threw away the letter. It is better to hide, disappear from the world. Only with invisibility is there any real hope of safety. 

**~~~2009 ~~~**

Lucius had been released from Azkaban, and has nothing good to say about Astoria, Scorpius or even Draco. Their choice to let Scorpius eat at their table. Their refusal to use Elf nannies. 

Lucius has decided their three year old is likely Squib, _for surely, Draco, he should have shown magical ability by now?_

Draco despairs, knowing the old man is still a fool and a bigot, but that its better to keep him close. Lucius is idiot enough to talk of bloodlines, purity or traitors. Scorpius deserves a clear, unsullied future. Draco won’t let Lucius ruin another son’s life. 

**~~~2010~~~**

At four, Scorpius is a whirlwind. 

He can be found investigating the Manor Gardens, or visiting the Elves in the Kitchens. He can be seen poring over maps in the Library, or sitting in his parents bed, fascinated by their moving photographs. Scorpius can hardly _believe_ they show his mum and dad. They’re so tiny! 

Scorpius loves one picture most of all. Daddy is laughing, not too much older than Scorpius is now, and he’s flying badly on a child-size broomstick. Scorpius only wishes Daddy laughed like that more often, so he steals the picture to hide under his pillow. 

**~~~2011~~~**

When Astoria collapses in the Blue Sitting Room, Draco can only look on in mute horror. 

They are sat, reading, when the hand holding his goes frighteningly, heart-stoppingly limp. Astoria’s face is the white of fresh parchment, her breath stuttering in her throat. Draco watches grey eyelids close over unseeing eyes, and, in shock, cannot manage even one word to summon help. 

But Astoria doesn’t die. Draco finds his voice and side-Apparates them to St. Mungos. 

In a heartbeat, Draco would take the Malediction for himself. Let Scorpius have his mother, and let Astoria have all the years she deserves. 

**~~~2012~~~**

Bloody _Potter_. 

Its surely enough, Draco thinks, to have that smug, sanctimonious face stare at him from the _Prophet_ each morning without having him stood, demanding entry to the Manor? 

“Its _routine_ , Malfoy. I could have done this officially, with warrants but _neither_ of us need more headlines. Let me in.”

Draco does, and hovers while Potter searches though his papers and photographs, pausing at a picture of Scorpius. “Six?” he asks. “I’ve got a son the same age. _Albus_. I only hope they have an easier time of it than we did.” 

Draco bites his lip and doesn’t reply. 

**~~~2013~~~**

Scorpius is seven, and wants to experience the world. 

He’s read about Diagon Alley in their Library, and has decided the only present he’d really love this year is an ice-cream from Fortescues. They Floo over, and Scorpius is happier that he thinks he’s ever been before. He has a Vanilla and Cloudberry Cone and Mummy has a coffee. 

Scorpius cries, though when something _terrible_ happens. 

A nasty man with grey hair _shouts_ at him, and calls him some words that he doesn’t understand. When Daddy shouts back, Scorpius starts to shake all over and they have to go home. 

**~~~2014~~~**

“We’ve always know this day was on the horizon, Astoria… There’s still plenty we can do to manage the worst of your symptoms but this Malediction… I’m afraid its one of the more invasive strains of magic I’ve seen...” 

Draco stopped listening when the Healer said there was nothing more they could do. All he could hear was the hammer of his heartbeat, the thrum of his blood pulsing though his body. 

There's nothing else they are going to try, and no more options left to explore. Draco takes his wife's cold hand in his own, gently rubbing her fingertips. 

**~~~2015~~~**

Its nearly the end of summer so Astoria demands a final picnic, while the sunny weather holds

Scorpius frowns, not _really_ wanting to be parted with his copy of _Fantastic Beasts_ but Draco just laughs, knowing he’s beaten. He’s been letting the Estate take care of itself for far too long, but what difference will one more day make? 

The Elves make them a scrumptious feast, and they eat Pumpkin Pasties and drink Butterbeer beside the lake. Draco teaches Scorpius to charm daisies into a chain, and Scorpius knots them around Astoria's wrist with a smile. He loves his mum. 

**~~~2016~~~**

Scorpius is ten. 

He’s inquisitive and clever. He’s kind, and has a heart overfull with love. _A follower, not a leader, despite everything Draco has tried to instil in him_. Draco wants to curse and scream at the ways of their world, a world that’ll take his baby so faraway from him, from Astoria and the safety of their home. 

Old enough now to know, Draco has told him everything. About Voldermort. About the War, about his Dark Mark. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Scorpius answers, so quietly. “That's not who you are any more. I’m still proud that you’re my father.”

**~~~2017~~~**

The first day of September arrives. Platform nine and three-quarters is as busy and bustling as Draco remembers. 

They said their long goodbyes at home, but Scorpius is still frightened. Draco sees him clutching his bag of sweets tightly, white fingers betraying his anxiety. Scorpius is going to need more than sweets to make friends, though, if the _Prophet_ keeps up its slander. 

Draco presses a final kiss onto Scorpius’ silky white hair, and lets him go. 

“The hardest part,” Astoria says. “Letting go. Knowing that you’ll both have a future. And knowing that, one day, you’ll both be happy.”

**~~~2018~~~**

Time is running away from Draco, and nothing matters to him any more. Not his alchemical work. Not his Manor. Only Astoria. 

Astoria is deteriorating, fading before his eyes. 

They sit together in companionable silence as the days pass, and Draco knows that despite it all, they’ve been lucky. Seventeen years isn’t enough, but he knows its all they’ll ever have. He remembers laughing and dancing with Astoria on the day they met. Remembers their wedding day and when Scorpius was born. Remembers picnics, reading aloud and the love that bound them together. Love enough for a lifetime of memories. 

**~~~2019~~~**

Its breezy and quiet on the day of Astoria's funeral. 

Its a _travesty_ , Draco thinks, a _disgrace_ that the flowers still bloom, the birds still swoop through the sky and the sun still rises. Draco stands to speak.

“Astoria. If I could live a thousand lifetimes I’d still make the decision to have loved, cherished and adored you. _My Astoria_. Scorpius and I will miss you more than my inadequate words can ever express, more than anyone could ever understand. I was half a person before you, and only in the radiance of love did I become whole once more”.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I really do appreciate every person who looks at my stories. I hope you have a lovely day xxxx


End file.
